


The Red Ledger

by 44TayLo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sex Shop, Anxiety Attacks, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Banner was a VERY troubled child, Bruce Banner's Sad Backstory, Dom/sub, Emotional Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hand Feeding, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Praise Kink, Professor Bruce Banner, Professor Tony Stark, Why do both their fathers suck so much??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: "In order to sub, Bruce needed to find someone he trusted deeply and who was willing to help him drop down gently. Staring at the whips, Bruce mentally went through all of the Doms he knew and tried to imagine subbing for them. He covered his eyes with a hand and sighed again.It was hopeless."Bruce has been a Dom and an active member of the local BDSM community for years, but he's always wanted to try subbing. He's just about given up on finding a Dom he can trust, when he runs into his colleague, Tony Stark, at his favorite sex shop.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Comments: 50
Kudos: 148





	1. Trust, Collars, and Incense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fun to write.

Sighing, Bruce continued to stare at the assortment of BDSM gear in front of him. Despite being part of the local BDSM scene for almost a decade, the collars, ball-gags, and whips suddenly seemed intimidating.

He wasn’t sure when he’d become interested in subbing. Back when he’d researched BDSM for the first time seven years ago, he’d been positive he could never sub. He’d been a Dom since then, and that had suited him just fine. Except, he couldn’t seem to quiet his curiosity about what it was like to be on the other side of a scene.

Part of his problem was that he knew pain wouldn’t help him drop down. Anything more than a light bite or spank or hair pulling, and he’d enter fight or flight mode. He knew how rare it was to find a Dom who wasn’t interested in the sadomasochism component of BDSM; as far as he knew, he was the only one in the area. It was one of the reasons he was so well known in the community.

The other part of his problem was that he knew firsthand how easily someone in subspace could be manipulated. A hard no would suddenly become a yes, because the submissive wanted nothing more than to please their Dom. His refusal to cross pre-set boundaries was another reason Bruce was a popular Dom in the community. Whoever was subbing for him was choosing to trust him intimately, whether they realized it or not. He couldn’t imagine taking advantage of that. On the other hand, he didn’t trust just anyone not to take advantage of him.

In order to sub, Bruce needed to find someone he trusted deeply and who was willing to help him drop down gently. Staring at the whips, Bruce mentally went through all of the Doms he knew and tried to imagine subbing for them. He covered his eyes with a hand and sighed again.

It was hopeless. Bruce had known that when he’d entered his favorite sex shop, The Red Ledger, turning beet red when Natasha uncharacteristically looked up from her novel to stare at him curiously. She pointed toward the BDSM gear, the area he normally frequented, but the glint her eyes told him she somehow knew exactly why he was here. The shop owner had the uncanny ability to determine someone’s kinks without even speaking to them, first.

Feeling defeated, Bruce turned away from the gear with the intention of leaving. Instead, he froze in place.

Staring at him with a smirk and a raised brow was one of the other professors at Culver University. At least it was Tony Stark, someone he considered a friend, and not, say, Steve Rogers. Still, this situation was not ideal. Bruce’s mind was racing, going through various outcomes ranging from his students finding out about his sexual interests, to taking Tony home with him.

Bruce shoved that last thought away and did the same with his embarrassment. If Tony was here, too, there was no reason to be embarrassed. It would be hypocritical of Tony to hold it against him.

“What’s a good department head like you doing in a place like this?” Tony teased as he walked towards him, his smirk breaking into a full-blown smile that crinkled his eyes.

Bruce could tell Tony was trying not to laugh, probably at the way he’d frozen like a deer in headlights. For some reason, that brought back his embarrassment ten-fold and he made a futile attempt to fight off his resulting blush.

“I resent that, Stark,” Nat’s voice called from the counter. She looked up from her novel for the second time that day to pin him with an unimpressed stare. “Don’t make me ban you so you’re forced to take your business to the classy chain stores.”

Tony shuddered as he put his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll behave.” Despite saying that to Nat, Tony was staring at Bruce, his expression turning from mock-fright to coy.

Bruce swallowed hard. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly attracted to Tony. Which meant that Tony was playing a dangerous game by flirting with him.

“Do you sub?”

Bruce barely managed to keep the strangled noise in his throat from tumbling out of his mouth. Tony was being so nonchalant, and it was throwing him for a loop. His activity in the BDSM community was potentially career damaging if it became public knowledge, and Tony was talking about it as flippantly as they spoke about the weather or midterms in Van Dyne Hall.

“I’m here for the incense,” Bruce answered lamely. It was obviously a lie, given the fact that the incense was upstairs and he was very clearly standing in front of the BDSM gear.

From the other side of the mostly silent shop (Bruce knew their conversation could easily be heard over Lizzo’s _Juice_ , which was playing over the speakers), someone snorted a laugh.

Bruce made a mental note to give Clint a death glare.

“You’re pretty jumpy about this for a man who has tenure,” Tony teased. Before Bruce could respond, Tony was lifting up a green, leather collar towards his neck. “Hm, this suits you.”

The collar was practically a foot away from Bruce’s throat, and still his breath hitched. By the time he regained his voice, Tony had put the collar back.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Bruce began evenly, “but I’m a Dom.”

Tony made a noise of intrigue, but continued to eye the collars thoughtfully, a hand on his chin. “That doesn’t disappoint me at all.”

Well, that stung. Bruce hadn’t expected Tony to be attracted to him, but to say it so blatantly was a bit hurtful.

“I’m a switch,” Tony clarified, his expression turning concerned and a bit confused when he finally looked over at Bruce once again.

“Oh,” Bruce replied, his own expression relaxing. His brows scrunched together, though, when another thought occurred to him. “How come I haven’t seen you at a munch?”

With a sigh, Tony turned to fully face Bruce and plunged his hands in his pockets. “Pepper,” he said simply.

Bruce’s eyes widened in realization. Pepper was Tony’s ex whom he was still friends with and occasionally had lunch with on campus. Bruce had seen them together once or twice. They’d broken up a few months ago, and Bruce knew it had been really hard on Tony.

“I’m just now getting back into the scene. So is Pep.” He shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve dommed. I figured I should update my bag of tricks,” he said, jerking a thumb towards the gear.

Bruce licked his lips, knowing his next question might be stepping over the line. “You and Pepper didn’t—”

“Oh, we did.” Tony’s smirk returned, though his eyes remained sad. “I didn’t say anything about how long it’s been since I subbed.”

“Ah…” Bruce cleared his throat, somehow feeling even more awkward. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “How did you like that?”

Tony tilted his head. “What? You mean subbing?”

Bruce nodded.

“It’s nice. Different. Sometimes I don’t want to be in control,” he explained. Softly, he added, “Sometimes I want to let someone else take care of everything and force me to stop thinking.”

Bruce thought that sounded heavenly.

It must have showed on his face, because Tony’s smirk returned and he quirked an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not looking for a Dom?”

Bruce swallowed hard. He knew the answer was plain on his face, so he might as well not deny it. “I am.”

A loud silence hung around them, and Bruce found himself wondering why Tony would ask at all if he wasn’t going to offer. Maybe his friend was just curious. That, or it was possible Bruce had misread the situation because of his attraction to him.

“I’m not good with sadomasochism,” Tony said, breaking the silence. “If it’s something a sub really needs to drop, I can make it work, but I don’t enjoy it.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Anything beyond hair pulling is a hard no for me. Whether I’m a Dom or if I were to…uh…” Bruce trailed off.

Tony smiled softly. “Do you want to stop by after your last class tomorrow and talk more about this?” Tony asked. “I don’t want to assume, but I think this could work out well for both of us.”

Bruce just nodded again, having swallowed his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but Tony seemed genuinely hopeful.

Very obviously, Tony’s expression brightened and he grabbed the green collar once again, as well as a matching set of handcuffs. “Great, see you then.”

Bruce forced himself to move, if only upstairs so that he could process without the awkwardness of saying bye to Tony again once he’d finished his purchase. The upstairs was rarely as crowded as downstairs. Downstairs contained most of the fetish gear, lingerie, toys, porn, and novelty items. Upstairs was relatively small, and only contained incense, some more costumes, and glassware for smoking weed.

At some point, Clint must have come up here as well. He looked away from Nat’s cat, which he was petting, to level Bruce with a shit-eating grin. “Here for the incense?” he teased, nodding towards the corner where it was kept.

Rolling his eyes, Bruce did in fact walk over to the incense and scanned the large selection for his favorite scents. There were the conventional scents, such as Nag Champa and sandalwood, but there were also individual sticks of stranger scents, like strawberry vanilla, rain, and rose.

“You’re lucky, Tony’s a looker,” Clint continued from his spot over by the pipes. “Isn’t that right, Loki?” Clint asked the cat in a voice most people reserved for babies.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to tell Thor you have wet dreams about his abs,” Bruce threatened.

“Empty threat, he already knows that,” Clint shot back.

Bruce just rolled his eyes. He heard other people coming up the stairs, so he turned his attention back to the incense and forced himself not to threaten Clint again.

He idly smelled some of the scents he hadn’t seen before, but in the end, he settled on a few sticks of rose. He debated grabbing a box of Nag Champa, but decided against it since he still had a mostly full box at home.

A couple was standing in front of the counter when he came back downstairs. He waited patiently behind them, trying not to eavesdrop. It wasn’t hard, since he was still thinking about his conversation with Tony. Something in his chest swelled at the thought of being able to sub, and to be able to sub for Tony specifically. It was true that they could stand to know each other better, but they’d been work friends who occasionally did things outside of work for a few years, now. Maybe he shouldn’t, but Bruce trusted him.

Stammering broke Bruce from his thoughts. Bruce recognized the frazzled male voice as belonging to one of the people who had come upstairs earlier.

“That’s not…she’s got it all wrong—”

“Just own your kinks, Quill,” came Clint’s voice as he descended the stairs, affectively cutting off the embarrassed red head. “Seriously. I don’t know how Gamora puts up with you.”

The couple must have been looking for green body paint, because that was what Clint set down on the counter with a clack.

The dark-haired woman Quill was with (Gamora, Bruce assumed) looked as composed as Natasha. It was eerie how similar their countenances were, actually. Bruce would have believed they were related, despite the fact that they looked nothing alike.

“He really is into it. I don’t know why,” Gamora said with a shrug.

As she rang up the bottle, Natasha assured, “Being attracted to your girlfriend in green body paint is far from the strangest kink I’ve heard.”

Bruce silently agreed, though he personally didn’t see the appeal.

“Friends of yours?” He asked once the couple had left.

Taking the incense, Nat cryptically answered, “You could say that.” After ringing it up and running Bruce’s card, she added, “They’re bounty hunters,” as if that cleared everything up.

Bruce just nodded, pretending that it did. Sometimes, he thought Natasha got off on being cryptic and impossible to read. As she handed him his bag, Natasha smirked, and Bruce took that as confirmation that his assessment was correct.

On the ride home, Bruce tried his best to quell the anticipation he felt, but he couldn’t manage it. He’d never come this close to fulfilling his desire to sub, before. Hoping never ended well for him, but it seemed he hadn’t learned his lesson, because he found himself hoping against hope that this worked out. It didn’t help that his thoughts kept drifting off to the green collar and handcuffs and Tony’s soft smile.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	2. Better than Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, chapter two!

The day was passing like molasses. It had felt like it’d taken an eternity just for Bruce’s morning classes to end, and now he thought he understood why his students were always so antsy to leave the moment class was over.

Currently, Bruce was eating lunch in the university cafeteria with a few other professors. It was good for them to occasionally eat together and not separately in their offices, otherwise they ended up working through lunch more often than not. Well, Bruce ended up doing that, anyway. He’d wanted to skip their weekly meetup, but Jenny would have killed him.

“Earth to Bruce.”

Jennifer was sitting across from him and waving a hand in front of his face, Bruce realized. He looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry, what?”

Luckily, his cousin’s expression was amused. “Steve thinks he’d get into trouble if he added a section about the gay and lesbian communities during World War II. What do you think?”

“It’s not that I’m opposed, I just don’t have tenure yet, and don’t want to rock the boat,” Steve assured. He was sitting between Val, one of the Gender and Queer Studies professors, and Jennifer, who taught Law but was very publicly engaged to her fiancé, Patsy.

Bruce snorted. “You’re not going to win this argument, Steve. Not when you’re sitting between those two.” He did understand Steve’s concern, though. It was best to fly under the radar when you were a professor without tenure. He often forgot how young Steve was; when his colleague talked about his past, it somehow sounded like the 27-year-old had more teaching experience than the rest of them put together.

Val rolled her eyes. “Fury isn’t going to care. He didn’t care when I told my students I’d give them extra credit for cross-dressing.”

Bruce remembered that little experiment. It’d actually been an ingenious way to introduce the students to their unit on transgenderism and genderqueer identities. Val had explained how at first, a lot of the students had played it up as a joke, but by the end of the week, they’d begun to either feel uncomfortable or discovered they actually liked expressing themselves that way.

Bruce also remembered how the experiment had threatened to backfire when one of his and Val’s mutual students, Peter Parker, had taken her aside and explained he wanted the extra credit, but this exercise would be triggering for him. Val’s solution had been to give him extra credit regardless, no questions asked. At her next class, she let her students know that if cross-dressing would be triggering for them, or if they were genderqueer and didn’t know how that would apply, they could talk to her one-on-one during her office hours and they’d figure out an alternative.

“He did care that you gave a quarter of your students free extra credit,” Bruce pointed out.

Val rolled her eyes. “Being trans or genderqueer has to pay-off somehow. Those kids deserve it for what this world throws at them just because they don’t fall neatly into Western society’s arbitrary gender binary.”

“I’ll talk with Peggy about it,” Steve sighed in defeat.

Val, Jen, and Bruce stared at him, having forgotten for a moment how they’d started on this topic in the first place.

“Peggy will agree.” Val was smirking, and staring down at her burger knowingly.

“Are we talking about Peggy and Val’s tryst?”

Bruce watched in surprise as Tony took the empty seat next to him. Most all of the professors had an open invitation to eat lunch with them on Fridays, but Tony rarely took them up on the offer. The few times he and Bruce had eaten lunch together, it had been just the two of them.

Tony looked incredible. He always did, but Bruce’s imagination had been running away from him all morning, which made him look even more gorgeous than normal in his grey dress pants and red button-up shirt. Bruce swallowed hard when he realized his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms and accentuating how muscular his covered biceps were.

Bruce suddenly felt extraordinarily inadequate in his khaki slacks and purple button-up.

Val was leveling Tony with a death glare. “Can it.” Her tone was threatening, though they all knew it was mostly for show.

“Wait, you and Peg…?” Steve looked like a deer in headlights.

“It was a long time ago,” Val assured. “Don’t get your khaki’s in a twist.”

Tony, Bruce realized, wasn’t paying any attention to the others. He was staring at him warmly, his head propped up with a hand.

“What?” Bruce asked softly, hoping the others were too busy fighting about Val and Peggy’s past hookup to hear him.

“You just look exquisite today,” Tony complimented. “That purple shirt is gorgeous on you.”

It was Bruce’s turn to look like a deer in headlights. Distantly, he could feel his face heating up, that warmth slowly creeping down his neck.

Tony leaned over, his lips so close to Bruce’s ear he could feel his breath as he said, “It would look even nicer if it was paired with something green, don’t you think?”

Bruce made a soft, strangled noise. In his wildest fantasies, he hadn’t thought he’d be this affected by praise. Maybe it was because it was from Tony. His crush, for lack of a better word, on his coworker seemed to be magnifying his response to Tony’s flirting.

Thankfully, Tony pulled away, and it seemed that everyone else at the table was too distracted to notice their little moment. Still, Bruce looked around as inconspicuously as possible to see if any students had caught them.

His eyes locked with Peter Parker’s. As the teen walked towards them, Bruce felt his stomach drop and then fill with a sense of trepidation

“Professor Stark?” The timid teen seemed even more nervous than normal.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony greeted, a genuine and easy smile on his face. “How’s the rollercoaster project coming?”

“Uh, it’s going well, that’s not the problem,” Peter fumbled.

Immediately, Tony’s expression changed to concerned. “What is the problem?”

Bruce relaxed when he realized Peter hadn’t noticed his and Tony’s moment. It seemed Jen, Val, and Steve had moved on to talking about Jen’s engagement, and still weren’t paying them any attention.

“It’s not a problem, really,” Peter assured, “but I need a letter of recommendation for the Maria Stark Foundation scholarship for next year, and I was wondering if you would be willing to write one.” He paused, clearly nervous. When Tony didn’t say anything right away, he clarified, “For me.”

Bruce watched in concern as conflicting emotions flashed across Tony’s face.

Peter seemed to have noticed Tony’s unease, too, because he began rambling, again. “Never mind, I probably wouldn’t have gotten it since I’m a freshman, and I shouldn’t have asked because, well, I’m sorry.”

“No, hey.” Tony stood from the table to walk after the fleeing teen.

Feeling a bit like he was intruding, but not caring enough to stop, Bruce watched Tony eventually catch up with Peter and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He wished he could hear what they were saying above the cafeteria’s clattering din.

“Earth to Bruce,” Jen whispered.

Reluctantly, Bruce turned to stare at his cousin. Jen already knew about his crush, so he didn’t mind being so obviously caught by her.

“So that’s why you’ve been so distracted,” she teased quietly.

Knowing he couldn’t hide anything from Jen, he hunched in on himself a bit and smiled. “There’s nothing going on. Yet.”

Bruce looked back over at Tony and Peter in time to see the student bounce excitedly before going in for a hug. Tony looked shocked, but returned the hug nonetheless.

The sweet moment made something flutter in Bruce’s chest. The last time his heart had fluttered like that, he and Tony were just starting to get to know each other. He’d had to stamp out that feeling once he found out Tony had a girlfriend. In fact, he’d had to do it so often, it’d become second nature.

“Yet,” Jen repeated, and Bruce didn’t have to look at her to know she was grinning.

“Yeah.” Bruce found he couldn’t stamp down that feeling in his chest, this time. “Yet.”

* * *

Bruce had been waiting for this moment all day. Time had seemed to move even more slowly after lunch, but now he was finally here, parked outside of Tony’s house. All he had to do was exit his green Honda Civic and knock on the door.

He couldn’t stop gripping the steering wheel.

Today had proven to him that his heart was trying to get involved, which could be disastrous. While he’d spent his morning classes in a happy, hopeful haze, he’d spent his afternoon classes in a loop of nervous overthinking. Bruce rested his head on the steering wheel and took a shuddering breath. He wanted this so badly, but his stupid heart had to get in the way, like always.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket, forcing him to straighten up with a sigh. When he fished out his phone and saw Tony’s name on the caller ID, his anxiety spiked. He couldn’t ignore it, though, that would be rude and unnecessarily cruel.

Feeling a bit strange at the prospect of speaking with someone over the phone when they were only a few feet away, Bruce answered.

“Hello?”

He could hear the anxiety in his own voice, and winced.

“Hey. How’s your day going?” Tony asked, his own tone even and calm.

“Uh…”

Movement caught Bruce’s eye, and he noticed Tony staring at him with a smile through the large window at the front of the house. He looked as calm as he sounded, his free hand in his pocket and eyes never leaving Bruce’s.

“It’s going alright,” Bruce played along. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good. Just waiting for a friend.” Tony chuckled, presumably at their little game. “What are you up to tonight?”

“I’m also meeting a…a friend.” Bruce faltered, his damned feelings demanding to be expressed.

Tony quirked his head, expression hard to read from this far away. “Just a friend?”

“I…I don’t know,” he admitted. He swallowed hard, gaze returning to the steering wheel in front of him. “He’s just a friend, but I think there could be more there.”

“Hm. Funny, I feel that way about my friend, too. What are the odds?”

Bruce let out a breathy laugh.

Silence hung between them, until Bruce broke it by sighing again and looking up at the roof of his car. “Tony, what are we doing?” he asked, dropping the charade.

“That’s what we’re here to talk about, isn’t it?”

Bruce didn’t say anything, but he nodded. Hopefully, Tony could see it.

“You don’t have to come in,” Tony assured, though Bruce thought he sounded disappointed at the thought. “Seriously. We can forget any of this ever happened. Or…”

“Or?” Bruce prompted. His free hand was gripping the steering wheel again, his knuckles white. He didn’t want to forget about this. He wanted this. He wanted this with Tony.

“Or, we can talk about our expectations and our limits. You know the drill,” Tony reminded, his tone kind. “Trust is the most important thing, right? That means we need to be honest about what we want out of this.”

“What do you want out of this?” Bruce all but whispered.

“I want you.”

Bruce closed his eyes as he shuddered, strangely affected by that simple statement. Tony had answered like it was the simplest thing in the world, and it made Bruce’s muscles feel like jelly.

“I’d like to be your Dom,” Tony continued, “but more than that, I want you. Whatever that looks like.”

“Okay.” Bruce’s voice was as shaky as his hands. “Okay, yes, I want all of that, too. And I want to sub for you.”

“Alright, great. Do you want to come inside for the rest of this conversation?”

Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle at the mirth in Tony’s voice, despite the anxiety that still clung to him.

“Yeah. Okay.”

As Bruce approached the door, he couldn't help but think about how much better than okay this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


	3. I've Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for xYoSa! Thank you for all of your help!

“So…” Tony trailed off. He was still pouring himself an espresso and pointedly not looking at Bruce.

“So?” Bruce prompted, his own hands curled around a cup of green tea. It wasn’t very good, but Bruce wasn’t about to complain. The box of teabags had been found, dented and obviously forgotten about, in the back of Tony’s cupboard after quite a bit of rummaging.

Turning, Tony leaned against the counter and sipped at what had to be too-hot espresso. He seemed, Bruce thought, uncomfortable. It was jarring, given how confident he’d sounded over the phone only minutes ago.

Tony set down his coffee and sighed. He folded his arms across his chest, his expression blank, and said, “I’ve been told I come off too strong. I just want you to know that I can slow down, and that you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.”

Blinking, Bruce struggled to process that. He’d thought he was the one who had feelings that were too strong too early. He’d been reassured by their phone conversation, rather than felt pressured or turned off, because Tony was clearly feeling similarly.

“I know I’m a lot,” Tony continued with a shrug, though he was looking at his coffee, again.

“Hey,” Bruce interrupted before Tony could continue his barrage of self-deprecation. He watched Tony’s mask slip, displaying his uncertainty, as Bruce stood from his barstool and closed the distance between them.

“Everything you said before? I feel the same way,” he assured. In fact, he was feeling that familiar flutter in his chest now, as he took Tony’s hand and intertwined their fingers. With a deep breath, Bruce stared at their joined hands and admitted, “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

That must have reassured Tony, because the next thing Bruce knew, Tony’s free hand was cupping his cheek and he was being kissed oh so softly.

Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed by his partner, and not the other way around. He felt pleasantly lost, drowning in the insistent press of Tony’s lips, the way he backed off the moment Bruce tried to give as well as he was getting.

Heat filled his face at the breathy noise he made when Tony finally pulled away. He was so used to being the one in control in these situations, that without that familiarity, he found his reactions strangely uninhibited.

“I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” Tony admitted.

Bruce couldn’t help but be a bit baffled at how composed he was, despite knowing he could accomplish the same if he took on his Dom persona.

With the slightest hint of a smirk and a piercingly sincere stare, Tony added, “You make the most gorgeous noises, did you know that?”

Bruce just stared, his face heating up further.

Tony hummed. “I think praise is going to be big with you,” he mused. “Speaking of which…” He stepped out of Bruce’s space and picked his coffee up again. “Should we get started?”

Reluctantly, Bruce sat back down at the bar top.

“What are your hard limits?” Tony asked.

“Pain that’s more intense than hairpulling is almost always a no,” Bruce began. That was easy to tell Tony, since he’d already said as much at The Red Ledger. Everything else required a bit more thought. He knew what he didn’t enjoy as a Dom, but now he was having to imagine himself on the other side. “No water sports, pet play, or daddy kinks.” Those were hard limits for him even as a Dom, and he knew for certain he wouldn’t enjoy them subbing, either.

“What about bondage?” Tony prompted.

“I’ve been a rigger, before,” Bruce answered slowly. “I don’t know how I’d react to being the rope bunny.”

Expression open and tone nonjudgmental, Tony asked, “What about it makes you uncertain?”

Bruce closed his eyes, focusing on the warm cup in his hands. He hadn’t expected this to be so hard. “I don’t know how I’ll react to feeling helpless if I’m pinned. There are…” He struggled to come up with an adequate way to summarize his past trauma. “Things,” he decided, knowing it was inadequate, “that happened in the past that make it hard for me to know how I’d actually react, even if I like the idea.”

A hand around his wrist made Bruce open his eyes. Tony was staring at him with an intensity that made his breath hitch. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Tony’s tone was also intense in its sincerity. “Do you like the idea enough to want to explore it?”

“I think?” Bruce swallowed hard. He desperately didn’t want to disappoint Tony, and bondage was something he hoped would work for him. He liked the idea of being physically forced to let Tony do whatever he wanted to him.

“That’s not good enough, and you know that,” Tony gently chastised.

Bruce did. As a Dom himself, he knew that his answer wasn’t an acceptable one. He needed to elaborate more, but opening up like this was difficult. Of course it was, this was the work that ensured their scenes were safe, sane, and consensual.

“I want it to be something I can have,” Bruce continued with new determination. If this was going to work, he had to open up. “It might end up being a hard limit if it’s triggering, but I want to try.”

Tony nodded, satisfied. “Okay.”

“What…” Bruce paused, licking his lips. “What about you? What are your limits, what do you want to get out of this?”

“I already told you, I just want you,” Tony answered with a shrug. “As for limits—”

“But why?” Bruce was baffled. He was leaving Tony with hardly anything to work with in terms of BDSM, and even his lack of a limit on bondage was still tentative.

Something akin to realization flashed across Tony’s face, which only confused Bruce further.

“Is this even going to be fun for you? I can’t be a typical sub, I don’t know if I can even sub at all. I’ve left you with practically nothing to work with—”

“Bruce, stop.”

Bruce did. There was a commanding quality to Tony’s voice that wasn’t normally there, and it made Bruce want to obey. It was very likely the voice he used during scenes, he knew, but that didn’t make it any less effective.

“I’ve got plenty to work with,” Tony assured. His thumb began moving in soothing circles across Bruce’s wrist. “You manage just fine as a Dom with similar limits, right? I’ve got this, just trust me.”

“Okay,” Bruce agreed shakily. He could trust Tony. That was why he’d agreed to this at all in the first place.

Easily moving on, Tony said with a shrug, “My limits are actually very similar to yours, though I’ll try anything once.” He paused, considering. “I’m not into degradation or humiliation, but obviously I do love control. I like it when a sub willingly submits and trusts me enough to be vulnerable. How do you feel about sounding?”

“Uh.” The question threw Bruce for a loop. “Maybe we could work up to that?” Sounding wasn’t something in his own Dom repertoire, and while it wasn’t something he’d consider a hard limit, it did intimidate him.

“Of course. Anything else I should know?”

Bruce could tell he was fishing, probably wanting to know more about his past trauma. If he were a Dom in this situation, he’d want to know everything he could to avoid triggering his sub during a scene. Swallowing hard and closing his eyes again, Bruce said in a rush, “I was beaten. As a kid.”

Tony’s thumb halted its soothing movements.

Bruce opened his eyes when Tony’s hand released him. Reluctantly, he met Tony’s gaze to see that he was staring at him, eyes searching.

“Is there anything specific I should avoid?” he asked, his voice so soft it was practically tender.

Trying to ignore the way Tony’s tone affected him, Bruce answered, “Everything I can think of falls under degradation or sadomasochism, so I think we’re okay.” Flashes of memory threatened to overtake him, and he shuddered. He didn’t want to delve into specifics if he didn’t have to. “What about you? Anything I should know?”

“I have a heart condition,” Tony admitted with a shrug that seemed to feign the easy comfort he’d been exuding during this conversation. “It’s just a congenital defect and doesn’t affect me for the most part, but I had open heart surgery as a kid.”

The admission made Bruce want to wrap Tony up in his arms and never let go. It was a desire fueled by a particularly strong emotion, and Bruce pointedly didn’t analyze it too closely. Yet again, his responding feelings were just too much too soon.

“If you’re up for it,” Tony began, and Bruce could tell by his tone that this was a blatant change of subject, “I have a BDSM checklist. You could take it home and fill it out, then we can compare?”

“Oh…” Checklists were common, and were in fact one of the most thorough ways to ensure someone knew all of their partner’s hard limits and kinks. For some reason, though, Bruce was thrown. Part of him, and he knew this part of himself was being insecure, felt like Tony was trying to force him leave. He could have emailed him the checklist earlier in the day so Bruce would have already had it filled out.

As if reading his mind, Tony’s expression softened. “We can go over everything verbally, if you’d rather. I just think it might be a good idea for you to fill it out when I’m not around so that your desire to please me doesn’t influence your answers.”

Bruce felt his face flush. Strangely, such a simple statement had also managed to make him aroused.

“I can tell you want to be good for me,” Tony continued with a smirk. His expression grew serious, though, when he asked, “If I called you a ‘good boy,’ would that be too close to a daddy kink for you?”

Bruce’s pupils dilated and blood began to pool in his groin. “Uh, no, I think that’d…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I think that’d be fine.”

Tony’s eyes flashed, and his smirk grew. “Excellent. So, checklist, then we can compare and I’ll plan our first scene.”

The mention of a scene threatened to loosen what was left of Bruce’s self-control. With difficulty, he got ahold of himself enough to ask, “Why didn’t you just email me the checklist? I could have filled it out earlier.”

Tony’s smirk turned to a frown, and his brows drew together. “I only have your work email,” he said simply.

Now it was Bruce’s turn to look confused. He appreciated the fact that Tony hadn’t sent something so sensitive to his work email, but he hadn’t expected that to be something he’d consider.

“You seemed so scared that people at Culver would find out. I wasn’t about to send you an email about it when it’s connected to the university’s server.”

“Thank you.” Bruce was genuinely touched by Tony’s thoughtfulness.

Tony gently grasped both of Bruce’s wrists. “I’ve got this,” he soothed. “I’ve got you.”

And Bruce believed him.

* * *

As Bruce pulled into Tony’s driveway, he felt giddy. He didn’t even hesitate to exit his car, this time.

Last night, he’d gone through the very thorough checklist once he’d returned home. He and Tony had exchanged personal email addresses, and so Bruce had scanned the completed checklist and promptly emailed it to Tony. Moments later, he had a text from Tony teasing him for not just taking a picture with his phone and texting it to him.

Bruce texted back that he didn’t half-ass things, and wanted to make sure everything was easily legible.

Now, Bruce was wracking his brain for anything they might have forgotten to discuss. They’d gone over length of aftercare (Bruce had no idea how much aftercare he would need, which was why they were doing their first scene today. If he ended up needing a lot, he could spend the night since tomorrow was Sunday), whether or not they would want comfort if a scene came to an abrupt stop (yes for both of them, unless they said otherwise), and what their safeword would be (they’d decided on the standard “red, yellow, green”).

The door opened before Bruce could come up with a reason to stall. As he stared at Tony’s reassuring smile and handed over his overnight bag, he realized he was glad. This was finally, really happening.

The moment the door closed, Tony was by his side. “Remember the rules?” he whispered in his ear.

Bruce shuddered pleasantly. “Address you as ‘Sir’ or ‘Anthony,’ be honest when asked for a color and do not hesitate to use a color, no speaking unless spoken to, and do what you say without question once we’ve started.”

Tony hummed, pressing himself up against Bruce’s back in a loose embrace. “The no speaking rule doesn’t apply to noises. Don’t hold back any noises,” Tony commanded.

They hadn’t even started, and already Bruce could feel himself hardening in his slacks.

Tony seemed to notice how into this he already was, and so he pulled away enough for Bruce to turn around in his arms. “You ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Bruce answered with a ghost of a smile.

“Good boy,” Tony purred. He carefully, but firmly, placed a hand against Bruce’s chest. “Now..." He stepped backwards until they were a considerable distance apart, eyes pinning Bruce in place more effectively than any restraint. “Strip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	4. The Best Laid Plans

A puff of breath escaped Bruce’s lips, unbidden, and with the slightest hint of a whimper. It only succeeded in making him flush a darker shade of red.

He was standing, still and naked, in the middle of Tony’s living room. His cock was half hard already. It was the quickest Bruce had become aroused in years, and it was frankly a little embarrassing. He knew it was the power exchange that was turning him on, the way Tony, fully clothed, was circling him with dark eyes that never left his body. He’d been doing this for what had to be five minutes straight, now.

At the sound of the whimper, Tony’s sharp eyes moved from his dick to hold Bruce’s gaze. “Don’t hold back,” he reminded him.

Bruce huffed a little laugh. “Yes, Sir.”

Tony halted right in front of him, humming low in his throat. Finally, he reached out and trailed his fingers from Bruce’s collarbone to his navel. His fingers paused on their journey just long enough to tease a nipple.

Bruce tensed at the contact, his eyes fluttering shut as he parted his lips to allow a breathy gasp past them. It felt more intense after being forced to simply anticipate it for so long.

“Good boy,” Tony praised. “You’re being so still for me. So patient.”

“Thank you, Anthony.” Bruce’s voice was warm. Actually, his chest felt warm, too, and he didn’t think it was from the blush.

“You’re going to keep being good for me, aren’t you?” Tony’s hand was on his cheek, thumb gently tracing the plane of his face.

“Yes, Sir.” Bruce shuddered. They’d barely started, and already he desperately wanted to be good for Tony.

“Perfect,” Tony praised. “Put your hands behind your back, and don’t move them.”

Brue did as he was told.

“Good boy.” Tony leaned in, his words ghosting over Bruce’s ear, “Now, close your eyes.”

Dutifully, Brue shut them. It didn’t take long before he felt Tony’s lips against his own. He relaxed into it, parting his mouth, and reveled in the way Tony’s lips moved instantly against his own. The way they claimed him. Tony kissed him like he was his, possessively and languidly, like he had all the time in the world. In a sense, he did. Bruce would sit there and take whatever Tony wanted to give him for as long as he wanted to give it.

Bruce was hyper aware of the fact that their only points of contact were their lips and the hand on his cheek. Half of his mind was focused on the searing kiss, and the other was willing himself not to press up against Tony. He was fully hard, now, and aching.

Tony kissed him for what felt like hours, but had to only be minutes. When Tony finally stopped, Bruce forced himself not to follow his lips. He couldn’t stop a needy little grunt, though.

Bruce didn’t have much time to miss Tony’s lips, because he immediately latched on to his ear, his neck, his collarbone. He felt like a guitar string, pulled taught and making little noises when Tony touched him just right.

Tony mouthed at a nipple, alternating between sucking and blowing air over it, while he tweaked the other with deft fingers. Bruce arched up into it, just barely. He wasn’t sure if that’s why Tony stopped, since he wasn’t supposed to move. What he did know was that he was trembling with desire. He’d been touched everywhere except for anywhere he really needed, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning low in disappointment.

“Patience.”

Bruce could tell Tony was smiling based on his tone. It soothed his mounting desire for a moment, making him focus on something else. He was the one who had put that smile on Tony’s face—on Anthony’s face. The warm feeling that had been building in his chest moved into his mind, too, and with it was a strange calm.

“Open your eyes.”

Bruce was greeted by the sight of Anthony holding the green, leather collar.

Dark eyes pierced Bruce with a searing intensity. “Are you ready to be mine?”

Another moan, this one loud and wonton, poured from Bruce’s mouth, followed by, “Please, Anthony.” His brain was too warm and peaceful to be embarrassed. He’d been thinking about the collar for days, now. He wanted to be Anthony’s. He wanted to please him, and he needed Anthony to do whatever he wanted with him to make him happy.

Anthony moved behind him, pulling the collar flush against Bruce’s skin as he fastened it. It was an odd sensation, one that briefly disturbed the peace in Bruce’s mind. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple pushing against the constriction. He could do this, though. He could be good for Tony. For Anthony.

“Hey, Precious,” Anthony purred.

Bruce’s eyes reflexively met Anthony’s own.

“You’re thinking too much. I’ll have to change that.” Gently, teasingly, Anthony pulled a little on the collar’s O-ring.

Bruce inhaled sharply. Some part of him knew, logically, that Anthony had been trying to force him to take a few steps forward. Instead, he’d jerked back. This only increased the choking sensation that had gripped his brain. Gone was the warm, cozy peace in his mind and his chest and his voice.

Hands were around his throat, squeezing the life out of him. Hands that were supposed to be gentle and loving. Hands that had only ever hurt him. He didn’t understand why his dad, the person who was supposed to protect him, was doing this. He should have found a better hiding spot.

“Bruce!”

Bruce sucked in a sharp breath, eyelids blinking rapidly. It took him a second to comprehend that Tony was staring at him, shock and concern etched into his features. It took another long moment for him to understand he’d lost his balance when he’d stumbled backwards, and was lying in a heap on the carpet.

“Bruce, color?” Tony demanded.

“Yellow?” Bruce answered, his voice stuttering and his tone uncertain. He realized that at some point, he’d placed a hand around his own throat. With difficulty, he forced himself to lower it.

“No. Bruce, you’re shaking.” Tony wasn’t using his Dom voice anymore. “This is a red,” he added with an air of finality.

“We don’t have to stop,” Bruce insisted. His voice was shaking as badly as his body, but still he forced himself to stand. “I can be good. I just need a second.”

The expression on Tony’s face made Bruce’s heart ache and shame coil in his gut.

“Oh, Bruce,” Tony soothed. He took a step forward, arms reaching towards him. “Can I take the collar off?”

Bruce placed a hand protectively over the collar, tears springing into his eyes. “I can do this!” He was breathing hard, his other hand on his chest.

“I think you’re having an anxiety attack.” Tony closed the distance between them, but refrained from touching him.

This was exactly what Bruce had been afraid of. It was so much worse, now, though. Now, he hadn’t just lost the chance to sub. He’d wanted so badly to please Tony and be good for him. He hadn’t realized just how much he craved that until the scene had started.

But he’d had his chance, and he’d failed.

“I don’t want this to be another thing he gets to take away from me,” Bruce bit out. He stared at Tony’s maddeningly understanding expression through watery eyes. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are. And you’ll still get your chance to show me,” Tony assured. He finally wrapped Bruce up in his arms. “You’re so good, Bruce. So good for me.”

Bruce slumped against him, the tears coming faster, now. “I’m sorry,” he managed. His voice was thick, and muffled against Tony’s chest.

Tony gently shushed him, a hand carding through his hair. “There’s nothing to apologize for. This is a learning experience. We’ll talk about what triggered you later, and then eventually we’ll try again.”

“Tonight?” Bruce didn’t even care that he sounded so openly hopeful.

The hand in his hair stilled.

“Maybe,” Tony hesitantly answered.

Bruce didn’t blame him. If he was the Dom in this situation, he’d want to wait and revaluate. Especially if the sub in question had shown they couldn’t always be trusted to use the appropriate color when asked. Bruce really had thought this was a yellow situation, though. He hadn’t realized how upset he was until Tony pointed out that he was having an anxiety attack. Unfortunately, he dealt with at least some level of anxiety on a daily basis, and sometimes didn’t realize he was having full-blown anxiety attacks.

Once Bruce had calmed down a bit, he dressed himself in the sweats and Culver T-shirt he’d brought as pajamas. He kept the collar on, explaining that he thought he could get used to it, as it wasn’t the collar on its own that had triggered him. Tony didn’t seem to like the idea, but he accepted it.

Despite the fact that Bruce was still shaking, he waved off Tony’s help in getting dressed. He was embarrassed enough as it was. He did, however, allow Tony to pull him into his arms when they settled on the couch. Tony grabbed the fuzzy, red blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over them, then turned on some nature documentary about the ocean.

Bruce was still disappointed in himself, but this was also kind of nice. Tony kept combing a hand through his hair, his other arm trailing fingers over Bruce’s bicep. Between that and the lulling narration from the documentary, he was feeling calmer. That warm, cozy feeling was even back in his chest, again, and he didn’t notice the collar at all, now.

“Bruce?” Anthony gently prompted. He sounded a little far away.

“Hm?” Bruce managed. He kept his eyes on the documentary, though.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

Bruce closed his eyes, not wanting to give up the peace he’d found. He was starting to love this syrupy feeling that had descended over him. Still, he did want to please Anthony. “Do you want to talk about it, Sir?” he asked, struggling a little against the haze to form words. He wasn’t sure why the honorific fell from his lips, but it felt natural.

The hand on Bruce’s bicep moved to gently nudge his chin. Bruce did as he was instructed, staring up at Anthony.

“Are you still dropping?” Anthony asked, concern and a bit of surprise making his brows crinkle.

“Yes, Sir.” That must be what was happening. The calm in his mind that he’d felt before and was feeling now, it was because he was beginning to drop into subspace. Talking, though, was making the soft haze that had descended over the world recede, leaving things a bit sharper, clearer, than they’d been.

Anthony moved the blanket back to reveal Bruce’s slightly tented sweatpants. Bruce also stared, a bit surprised. If he focused, he did feel aroused, but it was secondary to the feeling of dropping into subspace. It didn’t feel urgent, and actually, it felt like a side-effect of dropping, rather than the other way around.

“I think I have an idea,” Anthony said softly. He stood from the couch, then positioned Bruce so he was laying down with his head on a pillow. “Stay here,” he commanded. “You can watch the documentary, but I don’t want you to do anything else, understand?”

“Yes, Sir,”

Anthony ruffled his hair, before bending down to kiss his temple. “Good boy.”

Bruce preened in response, his erection making itself a bit more known as he pulsed with desire.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, watching the documentary but not comprehending it. Without Anthony’s gentle hands on him, he could feel the world sharpening further, everything beginning to come into focus.

With clarity came doubt. Logically, he knew that Tony would never judge a sub who unexpectedly dropped, and that he would know repetitive, gentle touches could help some people continue to drop down. He couldn’t help but be embarrassed, though. This hadn’t gone at all the way he’d thought it would.

Tony’s return interrupted Bruce from his thoughts. He watched as he set a plate of dried fruit, cheese, and crackers on the side table. It made Bruce smile, despite himself. Tony was notorious for snacking anywhere and everywhere, and Bruce had noticed he never brought food from home for lunch. He’d long suspected that Tony didn’t cook for himself, so it amused him that all he seemed to have in the house was snack food.

“Sit up,” Tony commanded. He settled down where Bruce’s head had been, putting the pillow he’d been using on his lap, and then gently pulled Bruce back down to lay on him.

“Are you feeling a little clearer?” Tony asked knowingly.

“Yeah,” was Bruce’s reply, and the lack of an honorific spoke for itself.

“Good.” The commanding tone dropped from Tony’s voice. “Because I want to talk about what happened with the collar before we do anything else. To be clear, this isn’t a scene, right now. You can sit up if you want.”

Bruce sighed. Whether from trepidation about the talk or contentment with his current positioning, he wasn’t sure. “I’m good.”

“Yes. You are.”

Bruce’s dick, which had started to go soft in Tony’s absence, stirred at the heat behind those words.

“I want you coherent for this, though, so if you start to drop again, I need you to sit up.”

Bruce nodded against the pillow. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew it was necessary. With another sigh, he decided to get it over with.

“When you pulled on the collar, it felt like I was choking,” Bruce explained. “The pressure felt like…” He faltered. Even with his mind still a bit fuzzy around the edges, this was difficult. “Like hands.” He swallowed hard.

Soft fingers began to card through his hair again, and Bruce melted into the touch.

“I think I can fill in the blanks.” Tony’s voice had an edge of anger, but it was controlled.

Bruce figured the anger wasn’t directed at him, but he still felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry.”

“New rule. You aren’t allowed to apologize,” Tony decided. His tone left no room for argument.

Bruce snorted at that, but didn’t say anything.

“And how’s the collar, now?”

“It’s fine,” Bruce answered honestly. “It was uncomfortable at first, but as long as you don’t pull on it, it’s fine.”

“I need you to be honest with me.”

Bruce closed his eyes against the painfully sincere words. He understood Tony’s hesitance to trust him after what had happened. He forced himself to sit up and look Tony in the eye. “I am. I really thought that was a yellow situation,” Bruce explained. “I have anxiety attacks so often…it just didn’t seem like a big deal,” he finished lamely.

Tony’s expression softened into understanding. “Okay. If something is triggering for you, that’s a red. I don’t care if you don’t think it’s a big deal.”

Bruce nodded. He knew that already--of course he did--but it was difficult to apply to himself. He’d dealt with triggers and anxiety for so long, sometimes it was difficult to remember his comfort was still important. Or, to recognize just how uncomfortable he really was.

“What about earlier caused you to drop?” Tony’s tone made Bruce think he already had a good idea.

“The repetitive touches, I think,” Bruce answered honestly. “And, I’m emotionally exhausted from earlier. I think that has something to do with it.”

Tony picked up the plate of food he’d brought in with him. “I want to try hand feeding you. After that, I’d like to get you off with my hand.” Tony grinned. “Nothing complicated or rough in any way.”

It was extremely mild compared to most scenes, and still more than Bruce had expected to happen tonight. The plan definitely appealed to him, but he frowned. “What about you?”

Tony arched a brow. “What about me?”

“Do I get to return the favor at all?”

Tony rubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “Bruce, you have got to stop worrying about what I get out of this. It’s my job to make sure we both get what we need, right?”

Realization caused Bruce’s lips to part and his brows to raise. Worrying about Tony’s pleasure was, in a sense, him trying to control the scene. It was him falling into the thought process of a Dom. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

Tony smiled thinly. “I understand that. But I’ve got this. All you have to do is let go.”

With a nod, Bruce settled back down on the couch, his head in Tony’s lap.

“Yes, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!<3 Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	5. Submission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad that the last chapter was sort of another cliffhanger, so here!

Bruce continued to lay on Tony’s lap for a while, relishing in the way Tony so gently caressed him with fingertips on his skin and in his hair. It didn’t take long for those soothing touches to start to lull him, again. This time, Bruce was more aware that he was getting hard. Maybe that was because of Anthony’s promise that he’d get to come, later.

 _Get to_. Bruce shivered.

Eventually, Anthony’s touch changed from gentle to sturdy, and Bruce allowed himself to be moved into a sitting position. He was being held against Anthony, who continued to run a hand through his hair.

“Do you know how much I love your hair?” Anthony praised. “It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

Heat suffused Bruce, pinkening his cheeks and filling his cock. His mind felt strangely loose. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Anthony nosed at his ear, whispering, “You’re mine, and I’m going to take care of you.” There was a promise in those words. “You’re going to be good for me. You’re going to make me so happy.”

Bruce outright mewled.

“Is that what you want?”

“Please, Sir.” Bruce didn’t care that he was begging. He wanted to be Anthony’s and to please him. That’s all he’d wanted all night.

Bruce nuzzled against Anthony’s chest when he shifted, turning his face away from where it had been pressing against the side of Bruce’s own. Eyes slipping shut, he focused on listening to Anthony’s heartbeat.

Something was being pressed against his lips. Without thinking, Bruce opened them. He dimly remembered Anthony saying he was going to handfeed him, and he obeyed the command to chew slowly. The dried mango seemed overwhelmingly sweet, and it actually produced a little moan of pleasure.

“Very good,” Anthony praised.

That, of course, produced another, breathy sound from Bruce.

They fell into a rhythm, and Bruce’s world narrowed to the heartbeat beneath his ear, and the cheese and dried fruit that was pressed against his lips. Not only was Bruce’s mind and body thrumming with warmth, he was drowning in it. Descending lower and lower with each piece of food and thump of his Anthony’s heart.

Unthinkingly, Bruce turned to press his lips against Anthony’s chest. Something pressed against his cheek the same moment that he kissed the light blue shirt Anthony still wore.

With some effort, Bruce shifted and opened his eyes. A cube of cheese was being held out in front of him. Immediately, he flushed with shame. His only job was to open his mouth and eat, and he’d somehow managed to mess that up!

“Sorry, Sir,” he whispered, the words feeling strangely heavy on his tongue, and coming out slurred as a result.

Anthony tsked, and the cheese was removed from Bruce’s line of sight.

Bruce felt himself being moved again, and he couldn’t stop a pitiful whimper from escaping him. He didn’t want to stop taking food from Anthony’s fingers or cease listening to his heart! He couldn’t believe he’d messed up something so simple!

Suddenly, Anthony was leading him away from the couch. Bruce stumbled, but Anthony was holding him securely around the middle. White-hot shame flooded Bruce again. This sort of warmth was somehow the antithesis of the warmth he’d been experiencing, before.

Dimly, Bruce realized they were in a bedroom. By Anthony’s command and with his help, he climbed onto the bed.

“Lie flat, hands above your head,” Anthony commanded. His tone wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t the sweet, soft thing it had been before Bruce’s mistake.

Bruce did as he was told, trembling with how much he hated himself.

The bed dipped. Bruce could feel the heat coming off of Anthony. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes again, so he forced them open and stared up at the man he’d failed.

“You broke a rule, Precious,” Tony explained, his tone solemn.

Bruce swallowed thickly against the tears that were trying to fill his eyes, and he nodded. He hadn’t thought it was a specific rule he’d broken, but he’d known he’d messed up. Mentally searching, he tried to come up with what rule it could have been.

“Do you know which one it was?” Anthony prompted, as if reading his mind.

They had five rules. Bruce closed his eyes tightly and tried to conjure them from his foggy brain. None of them made sense in the context of forgetting to keep his head facing forward. He tried to think of another misstep he could have made. He’d either called Anthony by his name or addressed him as ‘Sir,’ so that wasn’t it. He hadn’t been asked a color, so those rules didn’t apply. He hadn’t spoken out of turn. He’d done everything Anthony had asked of him, but maybe this was still the rule he’d broken. Anthony had given him the command to chew slowly, and he’d turned his head. Maybe not being allowed to turn his head had been implied.

“I moved?” Bruce offered.

“No.” Anthony shook his head. “I’ll be lenient, because it’s a new rule.”

Bruce inhaled sharply. “I apologized.” Before they’d started the scene, Anthony had said he wasn’t allowed to apologize, anymore.

“There you go. So smart,” Anthony praised.

Some of the shame Bruce had been feeling ebbed away in response to being praised. He was confused now, though. He’d messed up, and Anthony was still being kind to him.

Those thoughts were dashed when Anthony palmed his cock through his sweats.

Bruce moaned at the sensation. He hadn’t been touched all night, until now. He struggled not to beg outright, to not break another rule by speaking out of turn, and was therefore reduced to hitching, little moans.

“I promised I’d let you come, and I will,” Anthony assured. “Did you bring another pair of underwear?”

Bruce was thrown by the question, but dutifully answered, “Yes, Sir.” It came out more as a groan, than anything.

Anthony must have still understood him. “Good. Because as punishment, I’m not going to touch your cock directly.”

Bruce’s brows creased as his mind, made lazy by pleasure and the warmth that threatened to drag him back under where he could barely manage to move or speak, tried to understand.

“You’re going to come just like this,” Anthony purred, his voice in Bruce’s ear.

In his pants, Bruce realized. Anthony wasn’t going to touch his skin, he was going to bring him off in his pants.

Something about the situation, the fact that he was at Anthony’s mercy and couldn’t do anything to stop this from happening, ripped a low, strangled noise from him.

A hand snaked under Bruce’s shirt, fingertips leaving fire in their wake. He thought he was going to shudder out of his skin, the delicious pressure on his dick and gentle caresses becoming too much. He was dimly aware that Anthony was talking in low, soothing tones. He was praising him, he realized, and someone was moaning incessantly, brokenly.

“You can beg.”

The commanding tone cut through the haze of sensation. Bruce didn’t consciously respond to the permission, but the formless groans and mewls still transformed into desperate words.

“Please. Please, Anthony, please, I need…” He gasped, apparently not knowing what he needed.

“I know,” Anthony soothed.

Lips pressed against his neck, his jaw, his lips. Teeth nipped gently at his ear. It was too much! Bruce was going to come apart, he was going to—

“Come for me,” Anthony commanded.

Bruce gasped and arched and did. All of the energy inside of him condensed and exploded like a collapsing star. A supernova. Bruce was helpless to do anything other than ride out shockwave after shockwave.

He saw a burst of light behind his eyes, stars and colors, and then nothing.

* * *

When Bruce came back to himself, he was warm and being held tightly. He tried to swallow, but ended up coughing. A glass with a straw appeared in front of him, and he drank greedily.

It took Bruce another long moment to realize he was in a giant bathtub, settled against Tony’s chest. A kiss was being pressed against the nape of his neck, and Bruce let his eyes close again as he smiled. He felt lighter than he had in years.

“That was…” He didn’t know how to adequately thank Tony for giving this to him.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “You’re so responsive. It’s really gorgeous.”

Bruce huffed a laugh to hide his embarrassment. “We aren’t in a scene, you can stop with the praise,” he teased. Secretly, he hoped Tony would never stop.

“Hey, can’t a guy compliment his…” Tony trailed off.

Craning his head to look at Tony, who was staring at him uncertainly, Bruce decided it was his turn to do the hard work. “Boyfriend?” he offered, waiting for the sting of rejection.

Instead, Tony’s face lit up. “Boyfriend. Can’t a guy compliment his smart, sexy boyfriend?”

Bruce snorted. “He can, but both of those descriptors have to be true.” Bruce knew he was smart, and he wasn’t about to pretend he wasn’t. Just like he wasn’t about to pretend he’d been sexy in that scene.

“You seriously don’t think you’re sexy? What kind of a Dom doesn’t think he’s sexy?” Tony teased.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I know I can be sexy,” he defended. “But during that scene?” He tried to recall it, and shuddered a bit as fresh, yet distorted, memories reminded him how good Tony had made him feel. He didn’t care in the slightest if he’d been sexy or not. Well, that wasn’t totally true. He hoped Tony had found him attractive in that role.

“Are you kidding me?” Bruce had turned back around so as not to strain his neck, but he could tell from Tony’s voice that he was incredulous. “If it was anatomically possible for me to get it up again, I would fuck you right now, that’s how sexy you are. Hell, I’d let you fuck me.”

Bruce surprised himself by chuckling. Something Tony said struck him, though. “You got off?” He didn’t remember that.

“I took care of myself after you came,” Tony assured. “Didn’t take much. Seeing you basically come on command? Are you kidding me?”

“You’re an easy man to please,” Bruce teased. “You’re complimenting me for something you orchestrated.”

“No, I’m not,” Tony sincerely replied. “You’re just particularly talented at pleasing me.”

An echo of that warm, syrupy feeling from earlier filled Bruce.

The water was tepid, now, so they stepped out of the tub. Bruce allowed Tony to wrap him up in a towel, and gratefully took the sweatpants he offered to him. Especially once he realized it was past ten o’clock.

“Are you still okay with me sleeping over?” he asked. He’d assumed the sweatpants had been meant as an invitation, but he wanted to be sure.

Tony peaked out of the adjoining bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth. “Of course,” he replied around it, staring at Bruce like he was crazy. He disappeared for a moment, before returning without the toothbrush. “I’d prefer it that way.”

Bruce allowed himself to grin. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” Tony closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms loosely around Bruce’s middle. “What better way to wake up than next to a sexy, sexy professor?”

Bruce returned the embrace, still grinning like an idiot. “I concur.”

They settled into bed with Bruce curled up around Tony, acting as the big spoon. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, but he couldn’t fall asleep. There was something that was bothering him.

“Tony?”

“Hm?” Tony shifted, turning his head so he could see Bruce.

“How the hell did you find a bathtub that large?”

Tony’s laughter was like music, and Bruce felt it reverberate through him as he shook in his arms. When Tony finally calmed down, he answered, “Being a trust fund kid has its perks.”

Bruce huffed a laugh of his own, and they settled back down. This time, he fell asleep almost as soon as he’d closed his eyes.

It was the fastest Bruce had drifted off in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	6. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this chapter was so hard to write, but it's done!

Soft light greeted Bruce when he opened his bleary eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and who he was currently curled around. He couldn’t help but smile as memories from last night flooded his brain. A sense of calm lingered, their scene soothing some deep part of Bruce that ached to be able to trust someone to take care of him. Fear about being so vulnerable also bubbled up in him, but it was dull compared to the calm. He could trust Tony. He’d known the man for years and had never found a reason not to, after all.

Carefully, Bruce extracted himself from both Tony and the bedsheets so he could head to the kitchen. A plan had begun brewing in his mind. He knew he needed to stop analyzing what Tony got out of their scenes, since that was part of trusting him to be the Dom, but he still wanted to express to Tony how grateful he was for last night. To him, it was a gift, regardless of the pleasure Tony took in the proceedings.

Searching the cabinets and fridge, Bruce quickly realized making Tony breakfast in bed wasn’t going to be a possibility. He huffed a laugh. It seemed his assumption that Tony didn’t cook really had been accurate. He was musing over whether or not he could improvise pancakes using flour, sugar, butter, and applesauce, when gentle footsteps alerted him to Tony’s presence. Warm, sure hands wrapped around Bruce’s waist, and he relaxed into their grip.

“’Morning, Big Guy.”

Tony’s breath tickled Bruce’s ear, and he shivered, letting Tony feel the way his presence aroused him. He couldn’t help but laugh at the pet name, though. “’Big Guy?’ Where did that come from?”

Tony hummed, one of his hands wandering southward until he palmed Bruce through his sweats. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, especially since Bruce wasn’t anywhere near hard, yet, but the careful friction was an echo of last night. Bruce exhaled raggedly at the reminder.

“I think you know,” Tony teased. “Your dick is huge.”

That startled a louder, longer bout of laughter out of Bruce, completely breaking the mood. He straightened up in Tony’s arms, turning his head to find Tony smiling back at him with mirth-filled eyes.

“Breakfast?” Bruce asked, changing the subject.

Turning to the kitchen counter, Tony began fiddling with his coffee maker. “We could order in?” Tony suggested. Once the beans had finished grinding, he turned on the electric kettle.

Bruce couldn’t help his soft smile. It seemed, given the kettle and the sad, little box Tony had produced once again from the cabinet, his boyfriend had remembered that he preferred tea. Last night was still so fresh in his mind, and he’d been attracted to Tony for so long. Perhaps that was why he allowed himself to be swept away in the surge of affection he felt for him.

By the time Tony had finished making his coffee and was steeping Bruce’s tea, he settled on a plan. If he couldn’t make Tony breakfast in bed, he’d just have to thank him for last night in a different way.

Casually, Bruce blew on his cooling tea and sipped it once he’d deemed it was no longer scalding. At the same time, Tony downed his coffee in several large, continuous gulps. Even that made Bruce smile. It wasn’t a secret that Tony was majorly addicted to coffee, constantly carrying around a mug of some sort on campus.

The silence they’d fallen into was comfortable, but Bruce was determined that it wouldn’t last long. As soon as Tony set down his mug, Bruce set down his own. He settled into Tony’s space so that Tony was leaning against the counter.

“Well, hello,” Tony greeted, his smile turning a bit smug, though his eyes remained adoring.

Bruce had wrapped his arms loosely around Tony’s neck, his expression mimicking Tony’s own. “Hello.” So gently, Bruce pressed a kiss to his lips. It was chaste, but no less heated for it. He tried to put all of his affection for Tony, which was heady and consuming in that way that should have given Bruce pause, into the kiss. He did remind himself that, mind-blowing sex and his crush aside, they were technically in the honeymoon phase of this relationship. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it, though.

When Bruce broke apart, it was reluctantly. He needed to, though, in order move onto phase two of his plan. Slowly, he sank to his knees. He heard Tony’s sharp intake of breath as he tugged gently at Tony’s sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down in one fluid motion.

“Bruce, you don’t have to—” Tony’s protests were cut off by a gasp as Bruce pulled him into his mouth without preamble.

Bruce slid a hand up Tony’s thigh and back down again in a soothing motion. He pulled off, languidly kissing and licking, simply enjoying Tony’s warm skin and attempting to make him feel even a fraction of what he’d felt last night.

Looking up through his lashes, Bruce told him, “I want to.”

Gentle hands threaded through Bruce’s hair. Tony smirked, gorgeous, brown eyes dark with anticipation and pleasure. “Well, in that case, who am I to refuse?”

At that, Bruce took him back into his mouth. He forced the muscles of his throat to relax, taking Tony as deep as he could. Despite being only a Dom until recently, Bruce was well-versed in blowjobs. It was something he often used in scenes to keep a sub on edge, backing off when they got too close and slowly ramping up again and again. That wasn’t his plan this time, though.

“Bruce, God.” Tony was panting, and Bruce couldn’t keep from smiling. “How are you so good at this?”

Bruce started to pull back, but before he could, Tony babbled, “Nope, don’t answer, can tell me later, fuck!”

Slowly, Bruce lifted his fingers up towards Tony’s mouth. Tony immediately began sucking on them, slicking them up, and Bruce actually moaned around him when Tony tried to chase his retreating fingers. He pulled off, relishing Tony’s stuttering breath, and gently pressed in with a single finger.

“Fuck,” Tony muttered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Shh,” Bruce soothed, kissing the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. “Relax.”

Tony did as he was told, taking a measured breath. “Do you know how hot it is to see you on your knees?” Tony asked, the strain easing out of his tone.

Crooking his finger, Bruce found his prostate fairly easily and relished the way Tony bucked involuntarily. He continued to tease it as he took Tony back into his mouth.

“Bruce, fuck,” Tony muttered, a keen spilling from his lips.

A thrill washed through Bruce at the noise. Tony was pretty vocal. It made him want to switch their roles at some point, to tie Tony up and pull him under the sweet, peaceful haze that he now understood so much better. Bruce couldn’t begin to imagine what noises he’d make then, stripped of his inhibitions.

“I’m going to come,” Tony warned, and honestly, Bruce could easily tell despite the confirmation. The way he trembled all over and his balls were drawing up made it obvious. Still, Bruce continued to suck him.

Tony bucked up and deep as he spilled down Bruce’s throat.

Bruce pulled off. Still kneeling, he wiped come from the corner of his mouth with a thumb and cleared his throat. “So, breakfast?”

Leaning boneless against the counter, Tony laughed high and short. “Jesus, give me a second.”

Bruce hummed. He stood to his feet and casually sipped his now lukewarm tea. “While you take that second, I’m going to take a shower.” And brush his teeth, because he really wanted to kiss Tony again.

“Hey, no.” Tony looked like he wanted to move, but he was still leaning heavily against the counter. He motioned for Bruce to come back. “My turn.”

Bruce was still hard, but he’d honestly been planning on taking care of himself in the shower. “I’m fine.”

“Bruce,” Tony whined.

Snorting at the way Tony stretched his name into two syllables, Bruce shook his head. “Really. I know I don’t need to doubt that you’re getting something out of our scenes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to thank you.” He cleared his throat again, this time because of some emotion that had lodged itself there. “It just, uh.” Staring down at the floor, he continued, “It meant a lot to me.”

Somehow, Tony managed to cross the distance between them. Gentle hands framed Bruce’s face and pulled him into a kiss. The sheer tenderness of it took his breath away.

When Tony finally pulled away, Bruce hovered close. “I was going to brush my teeth,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Tony was practically purring. “I like tasting myself on you. And I like being your Dom. Honestly?”

Bruce tilted his head, brows furrowing. The wideness of Tony’s eyes and the lack of a smirk tipped him off that Tony was a little nervous.

Swallowing hard, Tony continued in a forcefully casual voice, “I feel honored you’re letting me be a part of this.”

The statement went straight to Bruce’s dick. Tony wasn’t just willing to take care of him, to honor his vulnerability, he actually felt like he was the one being honored. Letting himself be wrapped in Tony’s arms, Bruce whispered, “I want you to tie me up.” He wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe it was because of how well last night had gone, or because of what Tony had just said. Either way, he felt ready to try.

“What is this, Christmas?” Tony placed his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, eyes wide. “We’re getting breakfast and picking up rope. Or silk. Definitely silk.”

“You don’t have any? I find that hard to believe.”

“Of course I do, but I want you to pick it out.”

Warmth filled Bruce at the thought. Tony clearly wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible with the idea of being tied up. It seemed obvious to Bruce that Tony thought picking out the material himself would help. It was also possible that Tony was being overly sentimental, but Bruce didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“How about that shower?” Tony asked, filling the silence.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

After letting Tony get him off in the shower with a handjob (there had been no BDSM involved, and it was gratifying in a completely different way), the two of them went to a diner a few blocks from the Red Ledger. Currently, Tony was gushing about his current project over gluten free waffles and yet more coffee.

“It would be a game changer!”

Bruce just smiled, propping his head up with a hand. His omelet had been all but forgotten as he marveled at the way Tony lit up when talking about his research. Bruce had always been enamored by Tony’s brilliance, but now he could do so openly.

“Just imagine it,” Tony continued around a mouthful of waffle. “No more big oil, just self-sustaining energy produced by a device hardly bigger than the palm of your hand.”

“You’re not worried about being taken out by the government?” Bruce asked, only half teasing. “They’re pretty much controlled by big oil, you know.”

“Oh please, like they don’t already know what I’m working on.” Tony rolled his eyes. More seriously, he continued, “I’ve talked to Rhodey, and he’s certain I could get a government contract for the arc reactor once I have a working prototype.”

“This is making my work on anti-electron collisions seem very unremarkable.” There was no heat behind his words, though there was some truth to the statement. Taking a sip of his orange juice, he thought about how the results of engineering sure looked a hell of a lot cooler than those of quantum physics.

Tony paused, a forkful of waffle halfway to his mouth. With a raised brow, he leveled Bruce with a look. “Are you being serious right now? You could read your dissertation to me and that would be more than sufficient for foreplay.”

Bruce barely managed not to choke on his orange juice. Still, his voice came out a bit strangled. “What?”

“You’ve got to know that I think your brain is incredibly sexy. Even before we started doing this,” he gestured between them, “you know, dating, I was constantly complimenting how smart you are.”

“You flirt with everyone.” It was a stupid response, he knew, but that why it had taken until Tony’s blatant offer to Dom him for Bruce to realize he was interested. “You flirt with Jen, and she’s a lesbian. You kept flirting even when you were with Pepper.” He fully expected Tony to flirt while they were together, too. It was just in the man’s DNA to be disarmingly charismatic.

Case in point, a woman with short, blonde hair who Bruce had previously seen behind the counter was walking over to them. She had a wry smile on her face that told Bruce she was very familiar with Tony.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” the woman said by way of greeting.

Tony tilted his head, matching her smile. “Carol, you’re looking lovely as always. Is that another new leather jacket?”

Carol just shook her head, squaring her shoulders as she folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t make me punch you.”

His smirk broke into a friendly smile, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Do it, and I’ll tell Rhodey.”

Snorting, Carol relaxed. “Maria and Monica’ll be bummed they missed you.” Carol glanced at Bruce before turning her gaze back on Tony. “This the guy you’re always talking about?”

“You’re right, it’s a shame your better half isn’t here, because then you’d actually use your manners,” Tony teased. “This is Bruce. Bruce, this is Carol.”

Carol nodded at him.

“Nice to meet you.” Bruce couldn’t help but feel equal parts awkward and pleased by whatever was happening, right now. Finding out Tony talked about him enough for Carol to recognize him without proper introduction was doing wonders for his self-esteem.

Carol’s focus returned to Tony. “Maria wanted me to make sure you’re still up for game night. I was going to text you this morning, but this is easier.”

“Yep, I’ll be there. Platypus is coming too, right?”

Shrugging, Carol smiled. “That’s the plan, anyway. You’d probably know if he decided to bail before the rest of us.” She extended the smile to Bruce, before saying, “You boys have a nice breakfast.”

Bruce watched her head back into the kitchen, before turning to Tony with a raised eyebrow and a poorly concealed grin.

“I’m guessing you have some questions. Before you ask, yes, Carol is a badass who should not be messed with.”

It was obvious Tony was trying to play it cool, and that was honestly adorable. “You talk about me?” he asked, not rising to the bait.

“I may have mentioned that my coworker is a brilliant, sweet, handsome man, and that he wears these glasses that just really do it for me,” Tony replied.

Now Bruce was the one fighting off a blush. Tony hadn’t actively looked like he was embarrassed, but the way he’d tried to redirect the conversation was a dead giveaway for Bruce.

“Carol’s wife owns the diner,” Tony explained, once again redirecting. “They both met Rhodey in the academy, and if anyone is friends with Rhodey long enough, they inevitably meet me.”

“Would that make Rhodey ‘Platypus?’” Bruce asked. He’d heard a lot about Tony’s best friend, and he knew Tony had a penchant for strange nicknames. He hadn’t heard that one before, though.

“Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes, Platypus, Honey Bear, War Machine, Sour Patch, Rhodey, same difference.”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was sweet how close he and Rhodey were. “That’s a lot of nicknames. Should I be jealous?” The only nickname he had outside of the bedroom was “Brucie,” and he honestly wasn’t overly fond of it.

“Psh.” Tony waved a hand dismissively. Leaning in towards Bruce, he lowered his voice and added, “I don’t call just anyone ‘Precious’ or a ‘good boy,’ you know.”

Bruce flushed scarlet even as he preened. “Maybe you should think up some nicknames that are appropriate in public.”

Humming, Tony tilted his head. “Well, I can still use ‘Big Guy’ in public.” He sucked on his teeth before straightening up and saying, very seriously, “What about Brucie Bear?” Before the name was even out of his mouth, he was shaking his head. “Hm, no, the connotations aren’t right, you’re more of an otter than a bear.”

Bruce sputtered, but Tony continued to speak over him. “I do like riffing on the classic ‘Brucie.’” He was giving this much more thought than it warranted.

Tony pointed a finger towards him in a swift motion. “What about Brucie Goosey? It’s cute, it rhymes, and I get to continue the animal motif.”

Laughing despite himself, Bruce refocused on his omelet. “I think I can learn to live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! <3


	7. Opening Up

They’d decided to walk the few blocks to the Red Ledger. It was pleasantly warm, a bit unseasonably so for spring, and Bruce found himself lulled into a contentedness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Silence hung between them. It was companionable though, rather than awkward. It probably should have been awkward, Bruce mused, this early on in their relationship. Maybe their relationship felt like it was further along because they’d been friends prior. Perhaps it wasn’t just Bruce’s overeager heart taking the reins from his more pragmatic mind.

With that thought in mind, he allowed himself to reach out and hold Tony’s hand. He received a squeeze in response, then Tony immediately took his hand back. Before Bruce could feel embarrassed about his apparent misstep, Tony’s arm was wrapping around his back, his hand settling on top of his far hip. Bruce glanced over to find an expression on Tony’s face that could only be described as adoring.

Warmth blossomed in his chest, resulting in a bright smile.

As they walked towards the front door of the Red Ledger, Bruce instinctually looked around for anyone who might recognize him. He was so distracted, it took him a moment to realize Tony’s arm was no longer around him. Turning around, Bruce saw that Tony had stopped two or three steps ago.

“You sure are worried about what other people think, aren’t you?” There wasn’t judgment in Tony’s voice, exactly. His tone was too matter of fact and a little sad.

“I…” Bruce’s hands wrung together of their own accord. He didn’t think of himself as someone who cared about what others thought. He did, however, care very much about what people could read from him through casual interaction. Most everything that was him was kept under wraps, hidden by professionalism and forced calm.

Maybe that’s just what people did when they grew up being told they weren’t the right way to be.

Gentle hands took his own, interrupting his self-soothing touches and pulling Bruce out of his head. It wasn’t unwelcome, but it also made him aware of the anxiety beginning to settle in his chest, and of Tony’s expectant expression. Perhaps that’s what prompted him to answer somewhat honestly.

“I care what you think.”

With a sigh, one of Tony’s hands moved to cup his cheek. His expression was still inexplicably sad. “I wish you’d stop tip-toeing, Big Guy. I bet your strut is breathtaking.”

Bruce couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing Tony even if he’d wanted to. It was pretty quick and chaste compared to what they’d done this morning, but it was also achingly soft.

When Bruce finally moved away, he borrowed from his Dom personality. He knew his eyes were dark, smile easy and self-assured. “We’ll have to switch roles sometime, then.”

Despite the way Tony’s eyes obviously dilated, his expression remained sad. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Letting the persona and his smile fall, Bruce sighed. “Yeah.” He stared down at the sidewalk beneath them.

A sigh prompted Bruce to look back up. Tony was scraping a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t have brought this up now. It’s important you feel safe while we do this.”

Bruce had been right, then. Tony wanted him to pick out the rope to help him feel safer. It was sweet and thoughtful, but the rest of this conversation had just brought up the fact that they didn’t know each other on a significant level.

For the first time since he’d suggested it, Bruce was having second thoughts about trying bondage.

Sighing, he grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him back down the pathway that led to the Red Ledger until they were on the main sidewalk.

He hovered for a moment, before folding his arms over his chest and staring down at the space between them once again. “We don’t…know each other,” he mumbled.

“What? Of course we do—”

“No, we don’t.” He didn’t look up, too afraid of what he’d see in Tony’s eyes. “I hide so much. And I know you do, too.” Tony had been painfully honest when they talked about things involving their scenes, but during their two years of friendship, they’d mostly talked about work or other safe, surface-level topics. Tony wore this charming, self-assured mask at work, and a devil may care one the few times they’d hung out outside of that environment.

“Okay.” Tony drew out the word. “We can fix that. We can go on dates, like this morning, and talk about real things.”

Bruce did look up at that. He knew he and Tony had forced themselves to be open when they’d discussed their limits. If they could do that, why couldn’t they be honest and open with each other in other areas of their lives? Maybe his head was getting too involved. Maybe it was better to let his heart stay in control, at least for a while.

“I want to know you more,” Bruce admitted. “I’ve liked you for so long, I’m…I’m sorry I even said anything.”

“I want you to say things.” Tony shrugged, working his jaw in this way that made Bruce think he was trying not to bite his lip. “I want to know you, too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Tony grinned, gently taking Bruce’s hand once again. “Still feel like looking at ropes, today?”

“Well, we’re here, aren’t we?” He was smiling, still feeling a little strange, like he couldn’t find his footing. He didn’t know if getting this involved with someone was going to end up in another heartbreak, or if, maybe, just this once, it could work out. What he did know was that he wanted this. Whatever it ended up being.

He tilted his head, eyes growing wider. “Is this what you felt when you said you want me? Whatever that looks like?”

Tony’s smile quirked to one side, and it was gorgeous in its imperfection. “I don’t know, because I don’t know what’s going on in that brilliant brain, but I’ll go out on a limb and say yes.”

They just stared at each other for a moment, both smiling a little dopily.

“My friends!”

Bruce and Tony turned around to see Thor walking towards them.

“Hey, man! I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on,” Tony teased.

“Very funny, Stark.” Thor’s perfect smile bellied his sarcastic tone. He paused, having reached them, and seemed to be taking in their proximity. “Are you here together?”

Tony casually wrapped an arm around Bruce, and there were those butterflies again. Bruce allowed himself to express what he was actually feeling, even in front of Thor. For once, he wasn’t sure exactly what his face looked like.

“Yeah, you missed your chance with me, Goldilocks,” Tony replied.

“A shame, it would have been a magical night. For you, anyway.” Thor had a shit-eating grin on his face.

Bruce snorted a laugh.

“Alright, alright, let’s just head inside.” Tony shook his head, rolling his eyes.

The trio walked into the Red Ledger together. Tony and Bruce made their way to the BDSM gear, while Thor veered off to the right. A quick glance told Bruce he was perusing body glitter. He was probably here to stock up on supplies for work.

“Maybe one of our dates should be to the strip club,” Bruce said casually.

Tony paused in his search for silk ropes to level Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

“I think Thor would get a kick out of us visiting him at work.” He shrugged.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Tony smiled, eyes returning to the ropes. “It’d probably make his night.” He kneeled down to grab a couple of options, then straightened up and presented them to Bruce. “Alright, Precious. Take your pick.”

Bruce inhaled sharply, the term of endearment catching him off-guard. He forced himself not to stare into Tony’s beautiful, dark eyes, and to instead look at the ropes. They were all silk, and he found that they were equally soft. The only real difference was their colors. Black, purple, and green.

The green was the exact same color as his collar.

Immediately, Bruce chose the green rope. He caught the look of satisfaction that crossed Tony’s face before he could mask it. “I’m sensing a theme,” he teased.

“Green is just your color,” Tony replied, feigning nonchalance.

As they walked up to the counter together, fingers intertwined, they noticed Clint was chatting up Thor.

“Your brother gotten into any more shenanigans?” Clint asked as he rang up tubes of silver and red body glitter, along with a thong that sported a Norse looking hammer on the front.

Bruce choked down a laugh when he saw the thong, but Tony didn’t bother to hide his.

Thor shot them a wink before turning back to Clint. “He’s currently staying out of trouble,” he replied. “Though, I know you and Natasha love my stories about his escapades.”

“We named our cat after the guy and we’ve never even met him.” Clint handed over Thor’s now bagged items. “So yeah, I’d say we enjoy them.”

“I will let you know when I have more stories. Though, I hope for my brother’s sake I never do.” He gave Clint a melancholy smile.

Bruce thought it looked out of place on Thor’s face. He’d always thought of Thor as the human version of a golden retriever, so it was strange to see him sad. He and Tony would definitely need to visit him at the strip club or invite him out.

“Bye, Thor.” Bruce gave him a little wave as he passed, which Thor returned.

Tony placed the ropes on the counter and passed over his credit card. “Make any headway?”

Clint smirked but kept his eyes firmly trained on the rope he was bagging. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“That’s a no.”

Rolling his eyes, Clint passed back the bagged rope and Tony’s card. His eyes flicked from Tony to Bruce pointedly. “Looks like you did, though.”

“Hell yeah, I did.” Tony wrapped an arm around Bruce, his other hand now holding the bag.

“Good.” Clint flashed them a soft smile. “I hope it works out for you guys.”

They thanked Clint and left, walking in silence once again. It wasn’t quite as comfortable this time, Bruce noted. It was companionable, but odd. Odd, Bruce guessed, because it was an opportunity to get to know each other better that they weren’t utilizing.

“I saw you talking with Peter Parker the other day.” Bruce didn’t want to talk about work, necessarily, but everything else he’d thought to say would have sounded forced.

“Yeah. He’s a good kid,” Tony said fondly.

“He is,” Bruce agreed. Parker was only a freshman, and a young freshman at that. He’d once told Bruce that he’d graduated high school a year early and immediately applied for college rather than taking a gap year. Few students he’d met were as eager to learn as Parker was. “Are you going to nominate him for that scholarship?” He couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of a full ride. And, given the scholarship’s name, he assumed one of Tony’s relatives must have created it, so he was sure to have some sway.

When Tony didn’t reply, Bruce looked over at him. His eyes had that hard quality they got when he didn’t want to talk about something. Bruce just sighed. Even with a safe topic, it seemed they’d hit a roadblock.

“Yeah, I am,” Tony finally said as he unlocked his red Audi. He didn’t elaborate, though.

They both climbed in, and Tony placed his hands on the steering wheel. He didn’t turn the car on. “It’s my mom’s foundation that gives out the scholarship.”

Bruce stayed silent. Tony’s eyes were still hard, but he was talking. He was trying. What more could Bruce ask of him?

“She passed away when I was…” Tony puffed up his cheeks and let out a slow breath. “Twenty-one? Before I’d gotten my shit together, anyway.

“There’s this gala where the nominees and nominators for the scholarship have to mingle with the foundation’s board. My father’s going to be there.” The leather under his fingers creaked, his knuckles turning white from how hard he gripped the steering wheel. “We don’t get along.”

Silence hung between them long enough for Bruce to realize Tony was done talking. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I think it’s really sweet that you’re nominating him, anyway.”

Tony’s mask cracked, revealing a tiny, rueful smile. “Mom would have liked him. Parker, I mean. She’d want him to have the scholarship.”

Leaning over the car’s middle console, Bruce kissed his cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Now smiling for real, Tony started the car and drove them out of the Rambeau Diner’s parking lot. The diner wasn’t far from Tony’s house, so they’d be back in a few minutes. “Look at us, getting to know each other.”

“Look at us,” Bruce agreed. After a beat, he asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”

They were paused at a light, and Tony took the opportunity to glance over at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.” Parties weren’t his thing. At all. But he wanted to be there for Tony.

The light turned green. They drove in silence, Tony keeping his eyes carefully trained on the traffic. Finally, he said, “I’d really appreciate that.”

Part of Bruce was relieved that Tony was accepting support. It boded well for their relationship, as did the way he’d just opened up about a subject that didn’t involve their scenes. He didn’t want the conversation to end, but he couldn’t figure out what to say to keep it going. Hopefully, Tony would invite him in and they could keep forging a deeper understanding of each other.

“What the actual fuck!”

Bruce jumped. “What?”

Tony’s mouth was twisted in a grimace, eyes glaring daggers at a car that was parked in front of his house. It wasn’t Bruce’s car, and it certainly hadn’t been there when they’d left. As they pulled up to Tony’s house, Bruce realized there was a man standing at the front door.

The car barely came to a stop before Tony stormed out. Bruce fumbled with his seatbelt, scrambling to follow.

The man turned to stare at them as they approached him. Or in Tony’s case, stalked toward him.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Tony demanded.

The man looked like he was in his sixties and was oddly familiar. He had white, styled hair, a well-trimmed moustache, and was wearing an expensive-looking suit. His expression was bored, and his hands were in his pockets. Despite Tony’s obvious anger, the man exuded indifference.

That indifference was what helped Bruce remember who the man was.

Howard Stark leveled the two of them with a calculating look. His gaze lingered on Bruce for a moment too long, before turning its cold intensity back on Tony.

“Is that any way to greet your father?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! <3


	8. The Sins of Our Fathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo boy. Take a look at the tags, as they've changed. Take a look at the notes at the end for chapter warnings. 
> 
> I always knew this chapter was going to be heavy, but I didn't initially intend for it to be THIS heavy. Blame dr_zofia_bites. They asked me to make them cry.

“I’m sorry. What do you think you’re doing here, _Dad_?” Somehow, Tony managed to make the title sound like a curse word. “I obviously have company. You couldn’t have called, first?”

Howard exhaled loudly. Ignoring the latter half of Tony’s reply, he said, “I heard you were nominating someone for your mother’s scholarship. I stopped by to make sure you’re nominating the right kind of student to represent the Stark family name.”

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Bruce did his best to conceal his nervous energy. A heaviness settled over his chest, his muscles tensed, and he had to consciously force himself not to wring his trembling hands. He didn’t do well with conflict at the best of times, regardless of whether or not he was directly involved. The fact that this argument was between a father and son was making his reactions exponentially worse.

Tony’s own muscles were so taught, Bruce was concerned he’d pull something. Crossing his arms over his chest, Tony bit out, “Peter is one of the most brilliant students I’ve ever met. He’s more than deserving of the scholarship.”

A muscle in Howard’s jaw jumped and his eyes narrowed. “That’s well and good, but you and I both know that intelligence is nothing without work ethic.” Bruce had the distinct impression he was making a jab at Tony.

Tony squared his shoulders, his posture now mimicking Howard’s own. “He’s a straight-A student. You have him too, right Bruce?”

Bruce couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of his name. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into this, but he knew Tony well enough to see the distress he was trying to hide beneath a fiery gaze, so he answered, “Peter Parker is an incredibly hard worker.” Howard stared at him disinterestedly, barely maintaining eye contact. Bruce swallowed hard and continued, “He actually graduated a year early from high school and enrolled in university right away.”

Howard’s gaze turned back to Tony before Bruce had even finished speaking, and Bruce couldn’t help but interpret it as a dismissal.

“There’s nothing to indicate he could paint us in an unfavorable light?” Howard pressed. “Or that nominating him goes against the foundation’s principles?”

Tony’s shoulders and expression both sagged. The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by a weariness Bruce had never seen on him, before. “He’s a great kid, Howard,” he said slowly, casting his eyes downward. “He’s not like me, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Before Bruce could think better of it, he was moving to stand in front of Tony. “Now wait a second—”

“We don’t want a repeat of last time,” Howard interrupted with a sharp nod, still staring at Tony. He quickly glanced at Bruce before adding, “I won’t keep you and your…company…any longer. I’ll see you at the gala.”

Biting his tongue, Bruce forced himself to breathe. The way Howard kept dismissing him was unsettling, especially since they’d met each other several times at various Culver functions. He couldn’t help but feel the behavior was deliberate.

Tony didn’t move or reply, even as Howard strode past them. Bruce was willing Howard to leave faster so he could attempt to console Tony without making things worse. Being comforted required a certain level of vulnerability, and he had a feeling Tony wouldn’t welcome it while his father was still present.

As Howard opened the door to his car, he paused. “Hopefully you and Ms. Potts will have worked things out by then.” He climbed into the car and drove off, not waiting for a response.

The mention of Tony’s ex felt like a slap in Bruce’s face. He told himself Howard had no way of knowing he and Tony were romantically involved, that he was reading too much into things. Even if the barb wasn’t meant for both of them, it’d certainly been aimed at Tony, who had yet to stop staring at the ground.

Tentatively, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. When Tony didn’t shrug it off or move in any way, he enveloped him in a hug. Tony’s strong arms wrapped around his waist in response. His crushing grip was just the wrong side of bearable, but Bruce didn’t mind.

After a long moment, Bruce felt a hot puff of breath against his neck. He could feel the muscles in Tony’s back relax, though the grip on his torso didn’t ease. Obligingly, Bruce stayed put and held Tony for as long as he needed.

“You scared off, yet?” he finally mumbled into Bruce’s shoulder.

A snort escaped him before he could squash it. He had the sense to look sheepish as Tony peered up at him, head still resting on his shoulder.

“It’d take a lot more than that to scare me off,” he answered honestly. As much as he disliked arguments and general confrontation, Howard had nothing on his own father. Or so it seemed. Bruce knew appearances could be deceiving, and if Howard was willing to talk to Tony like that in public, who knew what he was capable of saying or doing in private. “I have some personal experience with shitty fathers.”

It was Tony’s turn to huff. “We both have daddy issues. How cliché.”

Without moving away from Tony, Bruce shrugged. He wouldn’t exactly call his own experiences cliché. The methods of Brian’s abuse had ranged from uninspired to innovative. Unthinkingly, he pressed Tony more tightly against him. His heart was still hammering too fast, and if he was honest with himself, the hug had been as much for himself as it’d been for Tony. They couldn’t stay on the porch forever, though.

“Why don’t we head inside?” Bruce was pleased he was able to keep his lingering nervousness out of his voice. He wondered, distantly, if he was having an anxiety attack.

“Inside is good.” Tony pulled away, only to grab Bruce’s hand as he unlocked the front door. “Better than staying out here for the neighbors to see.”

Wordlessly, Tony pulled them into the living room and onto the couch. “I’m going to use you as a pillow,” he announced, before stretching out so that his head was in Bruce’s lap and his feet were on the other end of the couch. Bruce had always known Tony was tactile, but it seemed he was even more so when upset.

The atmosphere in the house was so dark and foreign compared to what it had been last night and this morning. Bruce also couldn’t help but notice how their positions were reversed from the last time they were here. Thinking of last night, he cautiously began to card his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“I can’t do a scene, right now,” Tony mumbled. “I’m sorry. I don’t trust myself when I’m this wound up.”

Bruce’s eyebrows rose. “That’s the last thing I’d expect, right now.” He pushed Tony’s hair back from his forehead. “We can do it another time.”

Tony hummed, pressing the side of his face firmly against Bruce’s clothed thigh. “I swear I don’t normally introduce my partners to Howard on the second date.” It’d obviously been intended as a joke, but Tony couldn’t pull off the lighthearted tone.

Instead of replying, Bruce firmly and softly said, “You’re a good man.” He’d been struggling to understand how Tony could think so terribly about himself. He might not know Tony as deeply as he wished, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was a genuine, kind-hearted person. It was impossible for Bruce to comprehend the ease and sincerity with which Tony called him a “good boy” during their scenes, when he couldn’t understand that he himself was truly a good person. Bruce was just playing at one.

A laugh, high pitched and bordering on hysteria, was all Bruce received in reply. “You are,” Bruce insisted.

Tony sat up and shifted so they were no longer touching. He pulled out his indifferent mask, the armor Bruce hated but couldn’t begrudge him, as he looked Bruce in the eye. “I’m just a trust fund kid who still can’t get his daddy’s approval.” He shook his head, mask in place even as he smiled. “Now _that’s_ a cliché.”

Bruce wanted to insist that Tony was so much more than that, but he stayed silent. No matter how much he argued, Tony wasn’t going to believe he was a good person, right now.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Tony turned away from Bruce to stare at the far wall. “He hates that I can’t just choose to be the right kind of son.” The word “choose” was spat with vehemence, but otherwise, his tone was mild. “I chose to be an unathletic and unfocused kid, and I chose to struggle with addiction. And now I continue to choose to be queer and love teaching.”

Unable to stand the words coming from Tony’s mouth anymore, Bruce settled so they were sitting thigh to thigh and placed a hand on his back. “Tony…”

The mask was gone when Tony turned to face him. Unshed tears made his eyes glisten, and he swallowed as if something was stuck in his throat. There was strain in his voice as he continued, “He’s incapable of understanding none of those things are choices.” Closing his eyes, he paused to take a deep breath. “I, huh, I’ve never told you about some of my more fatal flaws.”

It was true that Bruce was lacking context, though he would only consider one of those things a potentially fatal flaw. He could puzzle out why Tony wouldn’t have been an athletic child, and he obviously knew Tony was queer and loved teaching. As for the rest, he didn’t understand where those assertions were coming from.

“You don’t have to,” Bruce assured, the hand on Tony’s back making circles. This felt surreal, like some sort of monkey’s paw situation. He’d said they needed to get to know each other better, but he’d never meant for it to happen like this.

Tony just shook his head. “I couldn’t concentrate for the life of me when I was a kid. Didn’t know why until I was diagnosed in high school with ADHD. I take medication for it, now,” he hastily assured, and it only made Bruce’s heart break that much more. “I had to wait until I was in college because Howard insisted I could think my way out of it, but the meds have helped a lot.”

“That’s not a flaw, Tony.” When he didn’t respond, Bruce continued, “You don’t have to tell me this. You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, you should know. If we’re going to be in a relationship, I need to tell you.” His breath stuttered, and his throat moved in another painful swallow. “I’m over fifteen years sober, but I partied a lot in high school and college.” Before Tony could cover his face with his hand, Bruce caught it and laced their fingers together. His tone was tight and soft, his voice wavering for the first time as he said, “My mom was killed by a drunk driver. I checked myself into rehab the day after the funeral.” The admission ended in a whisper, and Tony seemed to collapse into himself.

Immediately, Bruce pulled Tony into his arms. Tony didn’t fight it, but he also didn’t stop talking even as he shuddered with repressed emotion. “I nominated a student a few years ago. For the scholarship. He was super smart, and I saw some of myself in him, I guess. He confided in me about a strained relationship with his dad, and I knew he was involved in the party scene.” Tony sniffed. “I just wanted to show him someone believed in him, you know?”

“I do know.” Bruce pressed a kiss to his temple. “You’re such a good man.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I should have referred him to a counselor or something. I didn’t realize his mental health was as bad as it was.”

Lead filled Bruce’s stomach.

“He had a breakdown and ended up dropping out. He’s doing better, now, finishing his degree online at his own pace,” Tony assured, and Bruce let out a breath. “But I guess it looked bad because not only did he win a Stark scholarship, but a Stark nominated him for it. If I could do it again, I’d set him up with a counselor. I’d still have nominated him, though.”

“Of course you’d still nominate him, that’d be the right thing to do.”

Silence stretched between them. Every time Bruce insisted Tony was a good person, he ignored it. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he felt like he owed Tony, like it was his turn to be vulnerable. Maybe, if he saw that Bruce was the farthest thing from perfect, Tony would understand he was good. He just needed to see what flawed really looked like. It might scare Tony away, it probably would, but this situation had affirmed for Bruce how far out of his league Tony was. It’d be for the best. Besides, he couldn’t allow Tony to continue to think so poorly of himself.

“You’re not a bad person, and you can trust me when I say that. I have some authority on the subject.”

Tony shifted, pulling away so he could sit up straight and see Bruce properly. The attention made Bruce’s heart beat even faster than it already was. Breathing deeply, he pushed away the nausea trying to crawl up his throat.

“I used to blackout. A lot,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’d just come back to myself and have this large chunk of time missing. Repressed memories, I guess. I…I was a really troubled kid, Tony.” The blackouts stopped after college, for the most part. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d suddenly come back to himself with no recollection of the past few hours.

“Bruce—” Tony tried to protest, but Bruce wouldn’t let him. He did, however, allow him to hold his hand.

“I thought about really…really violent things and almost acted on some of those urges. The thoughts scared me, and I didn’t actually hurt anyone but myself…but…” Bruce was trying. He was really, really trying, but he couldn’t force out any details. If Tony thought he wasn’t a good person because he’d overcome addiction, there was no way he’d want to be with Bruce if he knew how terrible he was. How damaged. But, he reminded himself, that just meant he deserved the truth all the more.

“When I was a kid,” Bruce managed, though his words sounded half-choked, “I thought about building a bomb and setting it off at school. I even borrowed a book on how to do it, but I…I just couldn’t read it.”

A sharp inhale from Tony made Bruce screw his eyes shut. Simply averting his eyes was no longer enough.

“I’d finally gotten away from my father, but my mother was dead. She died protecting me.” The words tripped and similarly died on their way out of his mouth. He swallowed, tried to be stronger. “My aunt took me in. Even she knew better than to want me. I was being bullied all the time, and not just by classmates, but some of the teachers, too, and I… I was so hurt and angry. So, so angry. I’m _still_ angry.”

The gentle press of Tony’s hand kept him grounded. Proof that Tony hadn’t run away, yet. A strange development, but one that made him selfishly hopeful. “I saw a therapist for a long time, and I still take antidepressants… I constantly have panic attacks over things that happened almost thirty years ago.” He swallowed hard, willing himself to stop talking. He’d made his point, he could stop now. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You want to talk about flaws? All I am are flaws and techniques to manage those flaws.” A sharp gasp of a laugh escaped him, followed by the words he’d been trying to catch and keep caged. “Flawed is the best-case scenario for me, because my own father thought I was a monster right down to my DNA.”

“Oh, Bruce.”

The softness in Tony’s voice gave Bruce the courage to open his eyes. He was met with an equally soft expression--yet another testament to Tony’s kind nature. He waited, but Tony didn’t say anything else. It was the first time he’d ever seen him completely speechless.

“You’re a good, good man,” Bruce repeated fiercely, because what else was there to say? “Take it from someone who genuinely isn’t.”

Tony released his hand, and Bruce’s breath caught. But Tony didn’t demand he leave or back away from him. Instead, with oh-so slow, careful movements, Tony cradled his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

Tears finally overwhelmed his eyes and spilled down his cheeks as he kissed back fervently. His brain rapidly tried to parse together Tony’s reaction, making his head spin. Or maybe it was spinning from the way Tony was so gently nibbling at his bottom lip.

A breathy noise escaped him, but he didn’t care. He’d decided to stop being embarrassed about the noises Tony could elicit. Better to accept what he couldn’t control, in this case.

“We’re a pair, huh?” Tony whispered into Bruce’s mouth.

Bruce just shook his head, adamant denial that Tony was anything like him stuck in his throat. He should leave. He was raw and scared and open, and he wanted Tony closer, so he should leave.

“Don’t…”

As Tony leaned back in response, Bruce’s hands darted out and clung to his shirt without conscious decision.

Wide, bright brown eyes searched Bruce’s face. “Don’t what?” That honeyed tone rippled through him, encouraging his blood southward.

Bruce shivered again. He was in too deep. Too deep, but maybe not too fast. Hadn’t he been falling in love with Tony ever since they’d met five years ago? “Don’t go. Please.”

“I don’t know if you realize this, Big Guy, but we’re at my house. If anyone left, it’d be you.” A hint of a smile played on Tony’s lips. Somehow, it only served to make his overall expression even sadder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And Bruce actually believed him.

The next few moments were a blur of sensation and awkward, stilted movements toward the bedroom. Bruce was too jumpy to be passive. He kissed aggressively, possessively, and for once, Tony let him. Maybe Tony could sense what he needed, or maybe Tony needed to cede control for the same reasons Bruce needed to be in it.

It was silent and fast and desperate. They only spoke when Bruce, straddling Tony, needed to find the lube. It was the kind of sex Bruce had never truly experienced before, both participants trying to stop both their own and the other’s bleeding. Trying to soothe the pain, taking and giving what they could.

Tony clung to Bruce as he jerked them off. It was simple and entangling and Bruce was hurtling them toward the edge as fast as possible. He kissed every bit of skin he could reach, paying special attention to the light smattering of scars on Tony’s chest.

A sound that may have been a sob escaped Tony as he came. Bruce shuddered, the noise breaking him and leaving him arching. His own orgasm left him feeling wrung out, a sort of gasping calm.

He didn’t fight it when Tony pulled him close and rested his forehead against Bruce’s own. “Maybe we can agree we’re both good,” Tony whispered. “We can be good, together.”

Suffocating his desire to insist he wasn’t a good person, that he was very likely a monster, Bruce nodded against him. It was as good a compromise as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard is emotionally and psychologically abusive in this chapter. Bruce's childhood is discussed in some detail. His abusive father is mentioned, and he mentions having violent, intrusive thoughts (though he doesn't recognize that's what they are). I pulled from comic canon and he mentions thinking somewhat seriously about making a bomb and setting it off at school as a child. Tony's canonical alcoholism is mentioned.
> 
> Don't worry, Tony and Bruce will use those ropes eventually.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3


End file.
